


the life of a girl in only 1,000 words.

by galactic_superstition



Series: retrospect [2]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, Family Bonding, Gen, Moving Out, Travel, no beta we die like warriors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactic_superstition/pseuds/galactic_superstition
Summary: On April 30, in a small village in old England, far into the countryside, a young girl was born.Her name was Georgia.At the very least, her old name was.---the witch has had a very complicated life.





	the life of a girl in only 1,000 words.

**Author's Note:**

> ellanora really needed a backstory ok?

On April 30, in a small village in old England, far into the countryside, a young girl was born.

 

Her name was Georgia.

 

At the very least, her old name was.

 

\---

 

Her mother, a magical woman with a habit of paranoia, never allowed her daughter out of the house by herself. Georgia never minded; after all, her aunt, Mary, watched over her during those sunny afternoons.

 

It was fun with Mary around. She read tales out of a book always carried with her and snuck her out at times to pick flowers.

 

One day, Mary wasn’t there, but her mother was.

 

Georgia innocently asked where Mary was. Was she sick? Did she have an errand come up?

 

Her mother, glancing over with trembling eyes, burst into tears, heaving sobs and loud wails. In response, Georgia, barely aged what would be considered a toddler due to a witch’s slow aging, ran over, desperately trying to stop her mother’s grief.

 

She was pulled close, long arms wrapped around her waist. “I’m so sorry,” her mother whispered, “I-I couldn’t stop it,”

 

Georgia wouldn’t know what this meant until years later, but at the time, she simply tried to wipe away the tears.

 

\---

 

When Georgia finally became old enough to fully think and understand concepts, her mother started taking her outside to run errands and explore the town.

 

Her hair was tucked into a hat, not a single strand of pink visible, and her eyes were covered in a similar fashion via a blindfold.

 

“Don’t let them see your hair or eyes,” Georgia was warned, “The others will do bad things to you if they know,”

 

Carrying her around, her mother chatted to her about random topics, and whenever someone asked about Georgia, the response was always along the lines of babysitting or taking care of her cousin’s child.

 

Similar to Mary’s disappearance, however, her mother was gone one day, too.

 

Full of curiosity and worry, Georgia wrapped her hair in her hat and tied on the blindfold, pushing it over her forehead for the time being.

 

She ran along the dirt path, glancing at the empty streets. A young girl that seemed a few years older than her burst out of a shop, tidying her hat as she ran towards the square.

 

Georgia reluctantly decided to follow. Perhaps her mother was there.

 

The sound of voices and shouting got louder with each step taken. She thought of the different holidays and celebrations held in the village, but the time for those was far away. What was new?

 

Unfortunately, she managed to finally find the square, observing a sea of rioting villagers  that surrounded a wooden stake. There was a woman tied onto it, long pink hair let down and seemingly given up on escape-

 

Wait.

 

Pink hair…?

 

Georgia didn’t let herself cry as she recognized her own mother on the stake.

 

She was always told not to draw attention.

 

An old, balding man walked up through the crowd, holding a silver cross in one hand and a stick in the other.

 

He let out a speech that Georgia couldn’t be bothered to hear. There was an inkling of hope in her. Was he going to save her mom?

 

Suddenly, the torch he held was lit and thrown upon the stake, the entire structure being swallowed by bright flames.

 

Once again, she refused to cry.

 

Instead, she ran all the way home.

 

That’s where she finally broke, crashing to the floor and not getting up for the next hour or so.

 

\---

 

She had spent a week alone when her uncle came.

 

He had rarely visited; after all, it wasn’t common for one to travel such long distances on a regular basis. But Georgia recognized him well enough.

 

With a small hug, he brought her to his own home village, well into the forest.

 

She was tired during the meeting, but Georgia remembers feeling a strong presence of energy when she approached the village and being told that she was safe there.

 

That she wouldn’t have to see someone else burn.

 

\---

 

It was her cousin, Brin, that brought up the idea of Georgia leaving to start life anew.

 

It was the 20th century, the point of time where she had spent well over 12 human years in that village. She knew every trick, spell, and potion told there by heart, and always secretly wandered off to observe human civilization (wouldn’t Mary be proud?).

 

“We could just hitch a plane to another country!” Brin pestered as they were tending to the gardens, “I could always make a fake ID for us anyway!”

 

She laughed at the suggestion, “That doesn’t sound very safe, Brin. I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer- You could always go ahead, though.”

 

“No! If I’m going, either you’re coming or it’s not happening at all.”

 

Georgia was never swayed to their side, because although she liked the humans, there wasn’t any reason for her to go.

 

On a bright morning, however, there was a human visitor in the forest.

 

She watched from a distance as they looked around before dropping a tied up bundle of paper and bolting out.

 

‘Strange. Why couldn’t they just trash it normally?’ Georgia thought as she picked up the bundle and studied the contents. The colors were bright and unnatural; nothing you would see in everyday life.

 

She took it back to her cottage, slicing the ropes and spreading the different booklets across her bed. The designs overwhelmed her; why would you ever name a book something like Vogue or Cosmopolitan?

 

Georgia ended up reading all of them that night, teaching her more about human culture than watching from afar ever would.

 

When she worked with Brin the next morning, she offhandedly mentioned that travelling elsewhere wasn’t such a bad idea.

 

\---

 

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Brin as they rode the bus to the airport, “You wanna get a new name? We’re starting new lives, after all.”

 

“...I suppose. Are there any choices?”

 

Brin quietly made a list with the flick of their hands, “Well, I already chose Clover- start calling me that- but there are these.”

 

Georgia read each line, skimming through before one caught her eye.

 

Ellanora.

 

Despite only seeing the name for a second, Georgia pointed to it.

 

Brin- _no, their name is Clover now_ \- looked over her shoulder, and let out a hum, “Weird choice, but I picked Clover, so I guess I can’t really judge.”

 

\---

 

Flying to a new country was completely different from what Geor- _Ellanora_ was used to, but it was good.

 

Clover, bless their soul, helpfully guided her through the steps, taking over the conversation when she froze up and couldn't respond correctly.

 

Speaking of which…

 

“Why is it so big?” she asked in a dead tone, anxiety filling her as she gazed at the hulking machine.

 

“It needs to fit a lot of people. What were you expecting?”

 

“...We’re going to die, Clover.”

 

“If we do, at least it’s going to be publicized!”

 

“You’re making it worse!”

 

\---

 

They didn’t die!

 

\---

 

Ellanora looked at the passing scenery as Clover drove them to their new home.

 

“Is this place worth all the trouble of going there?” She asked them after an hour or so, the road changing from one in a city to one in the countryside.

 

Clover simply laughed. “Oh, it definitely is.”

 

A sign was set a few miles from the town. “Welcome to Salem, Manitoba”.

 

The moment they passed that sign, she suddenly sensed the presence of magic. It felt just like when she first entered the village.

 

The car stopped outside their new house. Ellanora looked at it before murmuring to Clover, “What even is this place?”

 

The reply was a short, “People call it a supernatural city,”

 

Ellanora liked the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> technically my canon can't even be considered tos anymore but i can dream


End file.
